Me. I am officially the Worst Mother Ever.
Things have been a little, er, distracted 'round these parts, and I left for lunch with my friend Nicole and her four-month-old daughter Emily having forgotten a bib and a nursing shield. At least I remembered the baby food and my boobs.
It was a fine lunch, as Emily just kind of sat on her mother's lap while Nicole ate and chatted (did I ever have that kind of baby? I don't think so) and Willow dribbled only a little food on her shirt and was otherwise quite content stealing bites of my tofu. Nursing her was an exercise in feeling embarrassed, especially since Nicole remembered her nursing shield and was a shining example of motherhood, but nothing I'm not fairly used to by this point.
But while nursing Willow, I noticed that she smelled of poop--she must have pooped while sitting in the high chair. No problem--I did remember diapers, at least. The restaurant did not have changing tables, and amazingly enough this was my first time struggling with a problem that mothers have wrangled for ages--changing a baby on the floor of a bathroom. Ewww.
But that was only the beginning of the Ewww, because Willow's diaper had leaked. And just this week I cleaned out her diaper bag and found the change of clothes that had been sitting in the bottom of the bag since June because I've never had to change her clothes while we were out in all that time and so like an idiot I removed it and so after changing her and wiping her down as best I could I had to put her back into her poopy pants.
I wash our hands at the sink, feeling irresponsible and ill-prepared and just generally like a crappy mother, and I go to leave the bathroom only to discover that I can't. We're stuck. The door has jammed and since I'm holding a baby and can't exactly use her as a battering ram, I can't get out. I shove against the door with my foot, with my shoulder, and make banging noises to see if someone will come get me but the music is too loud and finally I end up calling Nicole for help.
I'm ridiculously flustered at this point, and Nicole asks what's wrong, and I explain about the poopy pants and what an awful mother I am, and she waves her hand and says, "Oh, I did that yesterday."
As Dave pointed out, true or not, it was exactly the right thing to say.